Forelsket - the euphoria of falling in love (Danish)
The Day after Valentine's Day, 2008
The alarm beeped a couple times before Pam all but smashed the snooze button. Grumbling to herself, she grabbed her glasses from the nightstand and looked at the clock, replacing the glasses and plopping her head down when she figured she could stay in bed about ten more minutes.
There was a slight bit of movement next to her and she rolled to her other shoulder. They've been together for months now but it still gave her a small rush to wake up and realized Jim was next to her. She usually woke up first and often found herself just watching him, his hair going every which way, his breathing deep and steady.
Pam knew Valentine's Day with Jim would be special, that he would do something more unique and thoughtful than simply giving her a store-bought card and gift. When she arrived at work yesterday, several of her co-workers' desks were already adorned with the typical chocolates and flowers from their significant others, but instead of a bouquet, she found a single rose on her desk with a note attached that read, "When you finally started calling me 'Jim' instead of 'James'". She was a little confused and wanted to ask him about this single rose, but figured there was a more involved plan afoot and decided to wait and see.
After getting her morning yogurt - mixed berries of course - she returned to find another rose on her desk, with another note. "When you asked if you could eat lunch with me in the breakroom the first time." Another rose after a bathroom break, "When you brought in your sketchbook just to show me." Then another after she delivered a fax to the annex, "When you drew out step-by-step instructions on how to make collated copies specifically to give me."
A rose appeared every time she left her desk, with a new note mentioning things like her coming up with "Pretendonitus", winning the Whitest Sneakers Dundie, fooling Dwight by making the coat-rack move with a long umbrella. Pam wasn't sure what the theme was of all these moments, even after receiving eleven roses and notes. When they left work for the day, Jim offered no explanation for the roses on the way down to the parking lot, he just said he would pick her up for Valentine's dinner at six-thirty. As she got ready for dinner, she continued to ponder what tied all the notes together. Maybe some kind of inside joke, she thought, but not all of them were funny, they were mostly just silly little moments.
Dinner was at the small Italian restaurant that use to be a dry-cleaners, which had become one of their favorite places in the last few months. Towards the end of dinner she returned from the restroom to find a 12th rose on top of a card on the table. Jim smiled slightly as she opened the card and read.
"These might seem like random little moments,but they were just a few of the times that I knew I loved you.
And maybe the greatest little moment of all
was when I found that note in my expense reports.
Because that's the moment I realized you felt the same way about me."
The alarm sounded again, and she flipped to her right shoulder to hit the snooze button before flipping back to face the still-sleeping Jim. She reached up to wipe a tear from her eye, thinking about that silly note with the yogurt lid. When she put that note in his folder for his corporate interview, she had accepted that he was going to be leaving her life again, that they were never going to be much more to each other than an "almost", a "maybe", a "could have". She saw the note as a "farewell and best wishes", never did she imagine it would be what brought him back to her.
But it did, and now he was here in her bed, finally starting to stir and open his eyes. She loved it when he would wake up, loved the smile that never failed to appear on his face when he opened his eyes to her. The first thing he did when he was awake enough was bring his right hand up to gently stroke her cheek. "Hey," he said, his voice gravelly. He sat up to kiss her, before letting his head fall back to the pillow. He always kissed her first thing in the morning, another thing she loved.
Pam curled up to him, resting her head on his chest, listening to his breath. "I don't want to go to work," she said after a moment.
"Let's call out today," Jim replied. "We can tell Michael we over-exerted ourselves. Which is absolutely true."
Laughing, Pam raised her head, "Oh is it?"
"Beesly, I never truly understood the meaning of 'jump your bones' until last night."
Pam felt her cheeks get hot and set her head back down on his chest. After dinner, they drove back to her apartment, her left hand in his, her right hand clutching the 12th rose and the card he had just given her. The moment he put the car in park, she brought his face to hers to kiss him, short and sweet at first, then longer and deeper. His lips moved to her earlobe and he breathed something about how long he had wanted to be with her on Valentine's Day. When she replied that they should go upstairs and make up for lost time, it was a race out of the car and to her front door.
"I think Michael would gladly give us the day off as long as we give him a couple details," Jim continued.
"Like what?" she said, smirking.
Jim held up his hand, beginning to count on his fingers. "Well, there was round one, where we barely get to the couch before you had your way with me."
Pam scoffed, "Oh did I? I would say you had your way with me."
"Fine, there was mutual way-having," Jim said. "Then there was round two, where I go to get the leftovers from the car and come back to you in the kitchen wearing some satiny little robe and not much else. Then, my personal favorite, round three, where we finally do make it to the bedroom, and discover that your vanity is actually the perfect height for..."
Pam smiled at his blushing cheeks. "Recreational activities?" she suggested.
"Yes, adults-only recreational activities. And then finally, round four in this bed sometime during the night, which wasn't too showy, just kind of soft and slow and pretty great."
"Yeah, it was," Pam said, brushing her knuckles back-and-forth gently across his chest. "So I guess the only question is do we have a round five in us?"
Jim smiled, sitting up to give Pam a few kisses before wrapping his arms around her middle and rolling her over. Pam giggled as Jim started kissing her neck and clavicle, his hand slipping under her tee-shirt.
The alarm sounded off once again, and Jim sighed against Pam's lips.
"How soon to we need to be at work?" Pam reluctantly asked.
"Half an hour," Jim grumbled.
Pam gave him half smile, "Raincheck on round five?"
"I guess so," he replied with a pout.
Pam playfully pushed Jim off of her and they finally started to get out of bed. She took a step and yelped when her bare foot landed on something sharp. Looking down, she saw she had stepped on an earring, then looked further to see all of the jewelry and knick-knacks from her vanity were strewn across the carpet.
Jim, who rushed over when Pam yelled, was stifling a laugh. "What happened here?"
"You know good and well what happened here," Pam said in a play-annoyed voice. "Some oaf knocked all my things to the floor."
"The oaf apologizes," Jim said, leaning down to help her pick up everything. "He was in the throws of passion at the time."
Pam smiled then gasped when she saw a little porcelain figure on the floor, missing it's head. "Oh no," she picked up a decapitated figurine. "He was beheaded."
Jim peeked under the vanity and reached out his hand, coming up with a marble-sized head between his thumb and index finger, "At least he died in the name of love."
Pam took the head from Jim and stood up to set the figurine, a little boy dressed in traditional German clothes, on the vanity. "This is from my meemaw and she would definitely not approve of the means by which he met his fate."
"Oh yeah, your super fun grandma?" Jim replied, standing up with a handful of trinkets to put on the vanity.
Pam nodded, "Yeah, the one that thinks anything beyond hand holding before marriage is a sin."
Jim smirked and stepped closer, putting his hands on her hips, "We're probably going to hell after last night, huh?"
"Straight to hell," Pam said with a smile, wrapping her arms around Jim's neck. After a moment, she pulled her lips away from his. "No, no round five now."
Jim whined like little kid but let go of her, and they rushed around the apartment getting ready for work. Pam threw on some clothes, tied her hair back in a ponytail, and came out to the kitchen to find something quick to eat.
"Hey," Jim called from the bathroom, "we're gonna have to stop by my place, unless I have a spare dress shirt here?"
"Why, did something get on it?" Pam called back. She turned to see Jim walking into the kitchen, the shirt he wore to dinner in his hand.
He held the shirt up and ran his finger along the open edge where at least three buttons were missing. "Some horny little devil literally ripped my clothes off last night."
"The little devil apologizes," Pam said, holding back a laugh, "she was in the throws of passion."
Jim gave her a playful smack on her rear-end and grabbed two breakfast bars from the cupboard. "I guess we better get going."
"We need to remember to have you bring some clothes over, I have some space in the closet," Pam said as she locked the front door behind them.
"Yeah, that or move in together," Jim said nonchalantly.
Pam hummed slightly, not really wanting have that conversation at the moment. She knew he was ready for the next step, but she wasn't sure how to express that she wasn't quite there without him thinking something was wrong. Sure, if they weren't at her apartment, they were at his, but at the same time it was the first time in her life she had her own place. Living with Roy felt like a constant compromise; debating if they really should spend that much on a coffee table, arguing that yes, she did need that much space for her art supplies. She knew Jim wouldn't be like that at all, and she would be ready soon, just, not yet.
They were about to descend the stairs when Pam heard someone call her name. She turned her head to see her neighbor also heading out of her apartment.
"Hey Barbara," Pam replied. She really didn't know much about her neighbor, who was dark-haired and looked to be in her late 30s, but they were friendly and always greeted each other.
"This must be Jim," Barbara said, smirk on her face as she looked him up and down.
Pam froze as she remembered she's never mentioned Jim to Barbara, and then remembered the wall they shared was on the bedroom side of the apartment.
"Nice to meet you, Barbara," Jim said innocently. "You had a nice Valentine's Day?"
"Jim," Pam said in a low voice that he didn't hear.
Barbara just smirked more, "Oh it was alright, but I suspect not as good as yours."
Jim's brow met, and Pam tugged his arm. "See you later, Barbara," he said, following Pam down the steps.
At the first stop light, Jim lightly tapped the steering wheel and looked over to Pam, smile on his face. "I didn't know you talked about me with your neighbors, Beesly."
"I actually haven't," Pam said. Jim's expression shifted to confused and Pam bit her lip, "You know my vanity?"
The grin returned to Jim face, "I do after last night."
"Yeah, that's the wall I share with Barbara."
Once he realized what Pam was implying, his eyebrows lifted high, "Oh." He shrugged, "We weren't that loud."
Pam gave a nervous chuckle, "We were kinda loud."
"Yeah, I guess we were," Jim smirked, "I kinda liked that though."
"I kinda did too," Pam said quietly, knowing her cheeks were bright red.
Jim pulled into a parking spot below his apartment, and turned to Pam, half-smiling, "You know, I think my apartment has thicker walls." His right arm was over the console, his fingers playing with the hem of Pam's skirt.
Pam tilted her head, "It wouldn't be a big deal to, say, go in at noon, would it?"
He studied her face, then abruptly turned in his seat and opened the door. Pam giggled and fumbled with her seat belt as Jim ran to her side and opened her door. "Last one up gets to call Michael," he said, starting for the stairs.
"What!" Pam yelled, rushing after him. By the time she got upstairs, Jim was trying to turn his key, which had a tendency to get stuck in the deadbolt lock. Pam slide between him and the door, knocking his hand of his key ring and jiggling the key a little before it clicked. The door opened and they all but fell into the apartment, laughing.
"That was at best a tie," Jim argued.
"Tie goes to the girlfriend," Pam said.
Jim shook his head, slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, "Why does the tie go to the girlfriend again?"
"It just does," Pam replied smiling.
Jim brought up the office number, and stuck his tongue out at her as he hit "call". It rang twice before a "Yeeeesh" came on the line. "Hey Michael, something's popped up and Pam and I won't make it in til lunch, alright?"
A low chuckle came from the other line, "Yeah, I bet something popped up," Michael started, "Like your pe-"
Jim hit 'end call' and sighed.
"'Popped up?' Really?" Pam said, feigning disgust.
"I have no idea why I said that, I'm pretty sure I've never used that expression before in my life." His brows raised in worry, "Did I kill the mood?"
Pam shrugged, "A little, but we have time to revive it." She took a step towards the kitchen, "Maybe a real breakfast will help."
She made blueberry pancakes while Jim whipped up some scrambled eggs, and as they ate, Pam found herself watching him once again. Just a year ago she could barely convince herself to go to work, unsure if she could handle another day of him facing away from her, rarely talking to her, seeing him flirt and joke around with someone else. One day last March, not long after all the drama with Roy, Pam had decided she couldn't take any more, and printed off her two-week notice. She picked up the letter from the copier and was walking to Michael's office when she bumped into Jim on his way back to his desk. Pam inadvertently grabbed his arms to maintain her balance, and when he asked if she was okay, her eyes snapped to his worried face. She nodded yes, and he smiled at her for the first time in weeks, "You gotta keep your eyes on the road, Beesly." She gave him a small chuckle and he kept his eyes on her for several beats then gave her arms a small squeeze before letting go and turning to his desk. Maybe she just imagined it, the concern in his voice, the pain in his eyes, the small hope in his smile. Maybe him calling her "Beesly" was just a reflex, an old habit he hadn't broken yet, but at that moment it was enough to make her pick up her notice, which had landed a few feet away from Jim's desk, and then walk back behind her desk to run the paper through the shredder.
"I don't know how you do it, Beesly," Jim said, dropping his fork on his empty plate. "My grandmother has always held the title for best pancakes, but you may be the new champ."
She hummed in amusement and continued to watch him. After a moment his brows knitted and he asked her what was up. "Nothing, I just," she took a breath and smiled slightly, "I love you."
The smile slowly spread across his face, but then shifted to a more mischievous look, "I love your pancakes." Pam's jaw dropped and he smirked, "I like you well enough, though."
"Well enough?!" she half-shouted. She stood and started to lightly punch him in the shoulder, and he spun her around and pulled her onto his lap, his lips meeting hers.
He pulled his face back slightly and reached up to push a loose curl behind her ear. "I love you."
"More than my pancakes?" she said, a pout on her face.
He pretended to ponder her question. "It's probably a tie, but ties go to the girlfriend, remember?"
Pam giggled and their lips met again, his hands traveling down to her waist then under her shirt, tickling the small of her back.
"So... Round Five?" Jim said in a low tone.
She leaned back, biting her lip before she jumped up off his lap and headed towards the hallway, laughing as Jim came up behind her, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bedroom.